


We Don't Change

by altilis



Series: Priceless Commodities (Thief/Hacker AU) [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altilis/pseuds/altilis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock has to recruit an old colleague. Based on a scene from Ocean's 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Change

**Author's Note:**

> So in June I was all psyched about writing an Ocean's 11 AU, and I had plans to do the entire movie, every scene, the whole shebang. Summer social life and STBB happened, and come September, I started panicking. So what was going to be my epic Ocean's 11 novel turned into this one scene, which I've wanted to write since the beginning. Enjoy!

When Jim interrupts his chess tutorial to tell him he wants the new flagship, Spock tells him who and what he needs to accomplish his task over an expensive cup of tea and a padd of blueprints. They go to Pike's residence to sort out funding and Jim's sanity, and after Pike gives up on the latter, they catch a bus and a train to the intraplanet transport center.

There's a fork between the continental terminals, and that's when they both stop. Kirk slaps him on the back with one hand and hands him a folded piece of paper in the other. "I'm sending you on a mission to Savannah," he says as Spock opens the paper; a card is tucked neat into the crease. There's directions to a casino, a bar, and a hotel—Spock knows who he has to find and that he didn't agree to this. Perhaps he's overestimated how well Jim understands him?

"Jim—" he tries, then glances up and sees that grin on Jim's face. Jim understands perfectly, which is why he picks up his duffle bag and starts walking towards the Asia terminal.

"Say hi to Bones for me," Jim says over his shoulder and waves. Spock blinks again, and he's lost in the crowd. The Americas sign glares at him from overhead.

\--

Spock spends the two hour flight researching maps of the area and the layout of the casino. He takes a break to meditate after the stewardess serves him a cup of green tea. The shuttle's over the Mississippi when he confirms his reservation at the local hotel. When it arrives in Atlanta, he and his bag rent a transport using free, untagged credits, and he drives the rest of the way to the Atlantic coast with the radio playing Chopin, Liszt, and Bach.

The casino is actually a giant barge several miles off-shore, so at the beach Spock has to pull the transport up into the sky, and look out the window down at the blue, scanning from half a mile off the ground. The navigation unit is useless--not that Spock ever uses it over his own mind. The gleaming white concrete parking lot that juts out from the rig catches his eye.

He descends slowly, finds a strategic spot on the top level, and then leaves his car to enter the casino. Once the second set of doors close behind his back, cigarette smoke, flashing lights, and ringing bells assault his senses simultaneously. Spock questions the futility of this search as he starts to roam among tables and slots, especially when everyone he sees is an angry man wearing an old, worn coat. Except no one has the same brown coat or holds the lowball glass in the same way, and there's something familiar about the scruff and the messy brown hair, but he doesn't know for certain until he sits down next to the man and swipes his card for a single spin of the digital slots.

Spock sees in the corner of his eye as Leonard lifts the glass to his lips, sips, and then rests the glass on his knee again; his slots roll, too. "I saw you wandering around the tables," he says in a low, rough voice. "I saw you the second you walked in." Leonard turns his stool around—Spock doesn't look yet but he can hear the metal creak of the chair—"I saw you before you got up this morning."

"That is impossible," Spock answers and finally turns his own seat to face him.

Leonard downs his drink and sets the empty glass on the side of the slot machine, and then gives Spock his full attention; Spock feels his chest tighten at the intensity of the look. "You lookin' for something?"

Spock slips off the chair and to his feet. "May we step outside?" The electronic musical loops grate on his concentration—

Leonard catches his forearm, fingers digging into the muscle. Spock looks at him, right in his hazel eyes, and after a beat of silence, Leonard just uses the grip to pull himself out of his stool. They walk for the parking lot and say nothing to each other along the way. Leonard swipes another glass of something off a waitress' tray; she doesn't even notice.

When they step outside onto the concrete, Leonard leads the way to the side rail in the shadow of the building. A light breeze sweeps through and the ocean shines bright in the afternoon, but Leonard still looks tired, like he belongs to the dark, smoky cave inside. He leans forward against the concrete railing, and Spock stands next to him with his hands in the pockets of his own black coat.

"What do you want, Leonard?" Spock asks. It's difficult to offer something when he doesn't know what the man already has, or what's changed in the three years since they've seen each other.

Leonard looks down into his glass for a moment, takes a sip, and then balances it on the rail. "Nothing."

"If that were true, you would not be in a casino."

"You gonna pull that analysis on me? Of course there are things I want, but it's nothing you can get. You're not pulling me into another job, Spock—I've changed."

"Men such as ourselves do not change, our skills merely vary."

"Is that what Jim told you?"

Spock says nothing. They both look out at the ocean, and Leonard sips at his drink. As he lifts his glass again, Spock watches his hand. "You are not wearing your wedding band," he observes.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" Leonard looks down at his own hand, too, and his grip tightens around the glass. "Jos didn't—she wasn't thrilled about the Tellarite deal, among other things."

"Is she the cause for your drinking?"

Leonard grunts noncommittally takes another long drink until the glass is almost empty. "Well? Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"

Spock reaches into the inner breast pocket of his coat. "Jim desires a flagship." Leonard chokes, coughs, and then gives Spock an incredulous look as Spock pulls out a small card. He holds it out to him, and Leonard takes it cautiously with his free hand. "I am residing in Atlanta for tonight; you are welcome to contact me for further details."

He walks back to his transport with the feeling of Leonard's eyes on the back of his neck. This isn't the same doctor and partner-in-crime he once had—but Spock wants him to be.

\--

It's nine in the evening and Spock is meditating when he hears a knock on the door. By the time Spock has his phaser in hand there's another knock, and it's in the middle of the third one when Spock finally opens the door.

"Dammit, Spock," Leonard glares at the phaser in front of his face. "Put that thing away."

Spock lowers the phaser and steps back as Leonard steps in. He looks the same as that afternoon except now he has an worn, dirty, black bag over his shoulder. The bag lands with a thud next to his own suitcase before Leonard sits down at the corner of the king bed with a loud sigh. "I don't want to do this."

"Then why are you here?"

"Got nowhere else to go." Leonard's shoulders slump, and his hands pick at the seams of the duvet between his legs. When he doesn't say anything else, Spock begins to think it's a lure—he's seen it before when they're working—but Leonard has never done in it in private, not between the two of them.

Spock places the phaser on the dresser and then stands in front of Leonard. The other man looks up at him, and his mouth quirks into a grim smile before he looks to the side. "...you know, Jos wasn't so mad at the bust until she found out that it was you we were arrested with."

"I did not contact your family, as you requested."

"Yeah, but I told her we were done before that—and done to her means everything." Leonard brought rubbed a hand over his face. "She kept thinking I was seeing you after that, even when I was just playing doctor."

"But you were not."

"No." Leonard stands, and for a brief moment they're standing against each other close enough that Spock can smell the bourbon, but then he moves away to the window, showing his back to Spock and looking out at the city. "But I was thinking 'bout you, knew you were probably bored as me, out wherever you were."

"Conventional employment has been uninspiring," Spock agrees as he walked to stand by Leonard again. "If she troubled you, I should have—"

"Don't." Leonard looks at him, and then back out the window. "It's done. I can't change it, you can't—what are you doing?"

"I will provide you tactile comfort," Spock says as he tugs Leonard's coat off his shoulders, "but only after this sweater has been disposed of." He catches Leonard's look and adds, "It's atrocious."

This encourages a smile, and then a chuckle. Leonard helps him unzip the ugly wool thing, and Spock tosses it over the chair along with the coat. "There," Leonard says, spreading his arms, "better?"

Spock nods, but he hesitates. Leonard looks inviting (more than he did, but his blue shirt is wrinkled and stained around the middle button), but should he engage in such behavior, after the disruption he has caused? Would it be acceptable? Effective?

Leonard's arms wrap around him before he can make the decision for himself, and he returns the gesture. His arms squeeze around Leonard's waist, and his face presses into his shoulder so he can inhale the scent of him. He's going to give Jim the silent treatment indefinitely for making him come here, but there's no place he'd rather be at this moment. He will do everything in his power to make sure Leonard is sober and clean and skilled when they go back to San Francisco—

"Not too tight, Spock," Leonard wheezes, rubbing his back between the shoulder blades.

"Apologies." Spock loosens his hold, enough to allow a full breath. He feels a hand cup over the back of his neck and fingers curling through his hair, and with it he relaxes. "Do you have assets that require your attention, before you relocate?"

Leonard snorts, and kisses his temple before nudging him towards the bed. Spock shuffles and grips at his shirt. "Yeah, I have _assets_ , but you can help me move my goldfish tomorrow."

\--

They don't do anything more than sleep near and against each other, but to Spock it feels like the best night he's had in years, ever since the authorities kicked down the door on Tellar Prime and tore him from this.

They're going to steal a flagship together, Spock thinks—

"And don't you start thinking of the drapes yet, Spock," Leonard mutters against the back of his neck.


End file.
